Seders and Mitzvahs
by xlonelytylenolx
Summary: INCOMPLETE. Mark and Roger's highschool friendship turns into something more. MarkRoger.
1. Cindy The Skank

**Disclaimer: ** Everything belongs to Jonathan Larson. Except maybe the matzah, which has yet to make an appearance.

**Author's Note:** For those of you non-Jews, the word Mitzvah in the title is not as in Bar or Bat. The word mitzvah means blessing. And yes, I am actually writing this one now. So you will have to wait for chapter updates. Crazy, I know. Much love to Emily, my sexalicious beta. And rexmanningdays who also checked it over because my friend Cor's internet is down. together, they are the League of Extraordinary Editors. sadly, Shane West is not in this league...

* * *

Roger waited on the doorstep for about five minutes after ringing the bell before the door was opened and a disgruntled girl, who had clearly just woken up, appeared. Upon seeing Roger, though, she immediately straightened up, quickly combing her fingers through her hair, subtly pushing out her chest, and playfully leaning against the doorway. She giggled, twirling her hair, as she spoke perkily. "Hey, Roger. What are you doing here?" 

Roger's face screwed up in confusion. "Umm…do I have the wrong – Oh! Cindy _Cohen_. You're Mark's sister! How did I not make that connection?"

Cindy's face fell. "You're here for Mark?"

"Yea. Why else would I be here? Do you happen to know where – Oh, hey Mark!" Mark had appeared in the space behind the doorway, giving Roger a funny look for talking to Cindy. Or giving Cindy a funny look for her ridiculous position and obvious attempt at flirting with Roger. Cindy sighed heavily and walked away, looking more like she did when she first opened the door. Mark and Roger exchanged a glance and grinned before Mark lead the way upstairs to his bedroom.

"So, how do you know my sister?" Mark asked, obviously weirded out.

"Same grade."

"Oh, yeah."

"Mark, do you like your sister?"

"No. I really, really don't."

"Good. Then you won't take offense when I tell you your sister is a whore."

"Roger! That's a horrible thing to say!" Mark managed to say this in a nagging voice, despite the sides of his lips curling up into an unmistakable smile, and the clearly repressed laughs.

"Well, it's the truth! She offered to give me a blow job behind the bleachers at the Thanksgiving game last year."

"I so did not need to know that."

"And at that big party at Craig Jennings' last spring. And at that other party. Oh, and once in the hallway."

"The school hallway!" Mark looked appalled.

"Mm-hm!" Roger replied, pretending to be oblivious to Mark's discomfort. He was getting great amusement out of it. "Oh yeah, she also offered to give me a hand job at junior prom. Her date was already spent, apparently."

"You're making this up!" Mark laughed, exasperated but amused.

Mark was shocked, however, to find Roger reply in a dead serious tone. "Actually, I'm not. That was all true. One time at some party she even offered to let me give her anal. I think I'm like a mark for her or something because I'm the only guy in our grade that she hasn't given a sexual favor to."

"Wow… You know, I've heard guys call my sister a skank before, but I just always assumed it was because she's really pretty and wouldn't get with them."

"No, she is really pretty. But pretty loses some of its appeal when pretty gets with _everybody_."

"Except Roger Davis."

Roger put on a cocky grin. "That's right. Except Roger Davis. I'm so sexy not even the skanks can resist my charm."

"That doesn't really make any sense. It would have to be like 'Roger Davis: So sexy not even the boys can resist his charm.'" Immediately Mark's pale cheeks became a deep shade of red. "I mean…well, it is what I meant. Just, not in the way I said it?"

Roger raised his eyebrows at Mark. "Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to see a movie, but now I don't know if I trust you in the dark theater. If you're anything like your sister…"

"Hey, stop that. And can we still go see a movie if I promise not to go down on you in the theater?"

"Hey, that's a horrible promise to make! I mean… yes."

"You are such a perv."

"I know. But that's why you hang out with me, right?"

"Actually it's the reason I try avoiding you but you just keep showing up at my locker, and you know, I need to get my books." Mark grinned and poked Roger in the side.

"Oh, so that's all I am to you? An annoyance that gets in the way of your books?" Roger grinned and poked back.

"Mm-hm. And a ride, of course."

"Oh, I'm gonna get you for that!" Roger said before simultaneously growling at and pouncing on Mark, who fell to the ground with a thud and immediately convulsed into a fit of giggles as Roger tickled him.

"Stop! Stop!" Mark managed to get out through panting and giggles. His leg spastically kicked out, hitting Roger in the shin.

"Oh, you're really going to get it now!" Roger said, but in his moment of weakness Mark managed to get the advantage and roll on top of him, and now Roger was the one giggling and panting. This lasted for less than a minute before Roger rolled back on top of Mark, but Mark was ready and put up a struggle. The two rolled, each fighting to pin down the other, until they hit into Mark's bed and Roger won by default. They collapsed into a heap of heavy panting and light sweating.

As the panting began to subside, Roger started to notice how close he and Mark were pressed, how giddy he felt that their cheeks were touching, how if he only turned his head slightly, he could capture Mark's lips in a passionate, searing kiss. All these thoughts frightened and confused him, and he immediately jumped off of Mark and sat down on the bed, looking down on Mark, taking in the sight like a piece of artwork while trying to convey a normal look and sort out his thoughts. Mark groaned at the loss of contact.

Roger shook his head, realizing he shouldn't be staring at Mark like that; he shouldn't be interested in Mark in that way. He liked _girls_. Didn't he? He'd never doubted it before. "Um, Mark? We should probably get going. The movie starts in fifteen minutes."

After a moment of silence, Mark sat up and took in what Roger had said. "Oh, okay. Just let me get my camera."

Roger laughed. "You're bringing your camera to a _movie_? Isn't that like… illegal!"

"Hmm, good point. Maybe we should go to the park."

"You really are just using me for rides, huh?"

"Of course." Mark jested. "What else would I use you for?"

"My chemistry notes."

"Uh, Roger?"

"Yeah?"

"…We're in physics."


	2. Are You Gay?

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all who reviewed! I really appreciate it.

* * *

Mark was a junior, and Roger was a senior. Mark was in the higher-level classes, and Roger was in the average-level classes. As a result, they had physics and pre-calc together, as well as gym, lunch, and photography. Photography was a complete joke class, as their teacher did nothing and generally the class sat around and talked. Mark and Roger were the only ones who used the darkroom and so it became their favorite class. Most days Mark would develop photos and Roger would play his guitar. 

On this particular day, though, Roger was late to class. When he got there he was not surprised to find that Mark had gone into the darkroom without him. Without hesitation, Roger went through the darkroom portal, or the "dramatic entrance thinger" as Roger liked to call it, and struck a goofy pose. To his dismay, Mark had his back faced to him, hunched over an enlarger with headphones blaring music in his ears. Of course, this prompted Roger to come up with a mischievous idea.

He stealthily crept up behind Mark, and in one swift motion he pulled Mark backwards, one hand snaked around his waist and one covering his eyes. Mark yelped and thrashed about in spastic protest. In the process of all of this, his headphones fell off.

"Fuck, Rog. You're going to ruin my photo."

"No I'm not. Your photo's fine, see?" He moved his hand from Mark's eyes and placed it on his shoulder. He knew he should have just let go of Mark, but he didn't want to. He wanted to keep the contact for just a few seconds longer…

"You're such a liar. Look, it got all crooked. It's gonna be fucked up."

"Oh. Well, let's develop it anyway! I like to watch the images appear."

"I know you do. But…you kind of have to let go of me if you want me to move…"

"Heh. Whoops." Roger squeezed Mark's sides, earning him a gentle squeal from the younger boy, before reluctantly letting him go. His love of touching Mark, being close to Mark, talking to Mark, was all starting to worry him. Mark was beginning to be an obsession of sorts, as much as Roger tried to stop it. It was confusing. Roger liked to think it was just an affectionate thing: Mark was a great guy and an amazing friend, and Roger wanted to protect him and care for him like an older brother. But deep down, he knew that was all bullshit. When any mention of Mark's name brought a smile to his lips, when Mark paying the slightest bit of attention to him (which was several times a day) brought a slight blush to Roger's cheeks, when Mark was all Roger could think about when he jerked off, Roger knew it was utter bullshit. He was falling for Mark. He was falling for Mark and it scared him shitless.

Roger picked Mark's headphones up off the floor, causing Mark to snap backwards, falling on his ass as his walkman flung off his waist and onto the floor at Roger's feet, still intact.

"Oops." Roger chuckled, as he listened to the tape that was still playing after its dramatic leap. _Must be a demonic tape_, he thought. "Hey, this is my band!"

"Well, I'm glad you're happy." Mark stated sarcastically, standing up and rubbing his sore butt.

"Sorry. Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

Mark gave Roger a perplexed look. "Umm… you do know what you just asked, right?"

Roger was suddenly very happy that they were in the darkroom and that Mark, in fact, could not see him blushing profusely. He quickly recovered by nodding his head and saying, "Yeah! It is a very cute butt."

"Umm…thanks?"

And with that the bell rang, signifying the end of the period and the end of the school day.

"Any time." Roger said before slapping Mark's ass in what he hoped came off as a playful and humorous gesture, rather than it's actual purpose: the slaking of a desperate homoerotic desire to touch Mark's very adorable bottom. "Coming home with me?"

"Dirty, much?"

"Always."

"Yeah. No way am I taking the bus when I've got my own personal chauffer."

"You use me."

"You let me."

"Well, yeah." Roger shrugged, and they walked out to his car in the parking lot.

* * *

Mark excitedly came down the stairs in a hurry, camera in hand and a big goofy grin plastered on his face. Unfortunately, when he reached the bottom he bumped into Cindy, who got huffy because he'd put her newly manicured nails in danger. 

"Where are you going?" She asked, her tone full of attitude and mock intrigue.

"Roger's picking me up."

Cindy made a face. "Mark, are you gay?" She asked bluntly.

"What! No, I'm not gay. Why would you even ask me that?"

"Well, you're always hanging out with that fag."

"Hey, don't say fag. It's an offensive term. And Roger's not gay. Just because he doesn't want sexual favors from a skank like you, doesn't make him homosexual. Not everyone wants to pound the town whore, Cindy."

For a second, Cindy actually looked upset, but then she brushed it off, completely ignoring that Mark had said much of anything. "He is so a fag. That's the rumor around the school, anyways. Roger Davis gives head to the underclassmen behind the school gym."

"What the fuck? I have gym with him."

"Exactly."

"Cindy, I'm not gay!" Mark yelled, exasperated.

"Well, a lot of people are saying Roger has a crush on you."

"Who's a lot of people? You and your skank best friend, Krista?"

"You're getting very defensive." Cindy observed.

"I…what? What do I have to be defensive about?"

"I don't know. But you never used to talk back to me like this. Clearly I've hit some sort of nerve."

"Did you ever think that maybe I'm just growing up and realize you're not all that much older than me, you're not smarter than me, and you're nobody special?"

Cindy just shrugged. "I still say he's a faggot."

"Cindy, don't say faggot. And I spend all of my time with Roger. If he were gay, don't you think I would know?"

Cindy seemed to be pondering some sort of intelligent response when the doorbell rang. "Well, Roger's here. Bye!" Mark yelled, sprinting out the door. He slammed it behind him and turned to Roger, trying to catch his breath. "Hey!"

"Hey. Listen, Mark?" Roger was quiet. He seemed upset.

"Yeah, Rog?"

"I… I'm not gay."

"You…what? How did you – "

"Open window." Roger said, gesturing towards it.

"Oh. So you heard that…"

"Entire conversation. Yup. Hey, thanks for sticking up for me."

"Of course. That's what friends are for."

"We, uh… We should probably get going."

"Rog, are you okay? Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No, I'm fine." He said, walking to his car and opening the door. And that was that.


	3. The Blow Job

**Author's Note:** In my defense, I totally had this ready for thursday. But as I'm sure you all know, the site has been down the past 3 days. Gah, it was driving me insane. Anyways, sorry, but I should warn you due to AP tests coming up it might be a while for the next update. I'll try for no more than a week.

* * *

"What the hell is going on?" Roger asked, his face encased in confusion. He was looking down at the rather intimidating physics packet sitting on his desk that the teacher had given them class time to do. Looking, and realizing that instead of paying attention in class he'd been staring at Mark.

"What are you asking me for? You're the one who usually gets this stuff."

"Well, I say we boycott. Lenses suck, anyways." Roger says, stealing Mark's glasses and holding them in front of his face tauntingly.

"Hey, I need those!"

"No. They are evil, offending lenses. They are the spawn of Satan! You must not give into temptation, Mark. Now, I'm just going to throw these out the window…"

"Wait!" Mark cried desperately, flailing out his arms in a pathetic attempt to snatch his glasses back. "Wait, Rog. Give me back my glasses and I'll explain lenses to you."

Roger clutched his chest, pretending to be deeply hurt. "But Marky, you lied to me. You said you didn't know anything about lenses. How will I ever trust you again? Now I'm keeping your glasses." He childishly stuck out his tongue as he handed Mark his glasses.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." Mark said, as sight flooded his eyes once more.

"But I have to be dramatic, Marky. I'm trying out for the school musical after school."

"Oh, yeah." Mark said, his tone deflated. He looked down at his feet, suddenly seeming a bit sad.

"Hey, what's with the mood swing? Got your period?"

"Yeah, you got me. I'm bleeding from my vagina."

"Seriously, though. What's up?"

"I don't want you to try out for the musical."

Roger cocked his to the side in curiosity. "Why not?"

"I don't know." Mark put his hand on Roger's arm affectionately, and leaned into Roger. "It's just that it's going to take up all of your time and I like hanging out with you. I feel like once the show starts up I'm never going to see you."

"Aww, that's so cute. Marky's going to miss me." He poked Mark in the side playfully.

"Hey, don't tease me. I'm being serious here."

"Yeah, I know. But the musical's fun. And we have five classes together, Mark. You'll see me all the time."

"I know, but it's not the same thing."

And suddenly it was hard for Roger to think. The combination of Mark's hand on his arm, Mark's hot breath close to his face, and Mark's caring, horribly adorable necessity to spend time with Roger was starting to make Roger's jeans feel a little too tight. Not to mention the heat rising to his cheeks had him feeling incredibly embarrassed, which only made him blush more. "I, um…" _God, snap out of it. You do not like boys._ "I mean, besides. You should join tech." Mark made a face. "What? Techies are cool. Plus, then you would be after school with me all the time. I'll help out with tech, too. We'll see each other lots."

"Yeah, I guess that sounds okay. I'll think about it."

"Or you could always, you know, try out."

"No."

"Oh, come on. You know you wa–"

"_No._"

"But you like to sing!"

"'Like to' is not the same is as 'is good at'"

"That is true. You can't sing for shit, Mark."

Mark got in a sarcastic "Thanks." before the bell rang. "Guess I never taught you about lenses."

Roger shrugged. "There's always lunch. I'm sure you don't really know what you're talking about, anyway. See you after choir. And, uh, I know it's hard, but try to survive this period without me." Mark flashed Roger a playful glare before heading to Spanish. Roger wondered how Mark could seem so irresistible, even with that silly look on his face, as he tried to walk to chorus class while inconspicuously hiding the bulge in his pants.

* * *

Most people wouldn't expect it of him, but Roger really enjoyed choir. He was good at it, and sure his passion was for rock music, but he appreciated music in general. But today in choir he was a teensy bit distracted. His thoughts ranged from imagining himself in various Mark-related sexual endeavors to thinking, _Stop thinking like that. You're not gay. Remember? Not gay. Fuck, what if I'm gay?_ He left choir to go to the bathroom and "relieve himself".

In the hallway he bumped into Cindy. _Just what I need to make this day all rainbows and sunshine,_ he thought dryly. "Hi."

"Oh, hi Roger. Where's my brother?" From the way she said it, it was clear that she still wasn't over the fact that Roger was over her house almost every day and still wouldn't give her the time of day.

"He's in Spanish class now."

"Wow. I was just kidding because you two are always together. I didn't expect you to actually know his schedule!" Cindy practically snorted.

"Oh. Oops." was all Roger could say as he worked things out in his head. Now that he thought about it, it was pretty strange that he knew every second of Mark's day. No wonder everybody thought he was gay. Even he was starting to think so. But no, he liked girls. He did. He just liked Mark, too. Mark could be… sort of… feminine… at times. And now he was losing an argument with himself. Roger noted that he really had problems. Then he realized something. "Hey, Cindy. You're a girl."

"Really?" Cindy looked down at the cleavage that was practically pouring out of her shirt, and then back up at Roger. "What gave it away?"

"Well I was just wondering if the offer was still up for uh, you know." He pointed down to his obvious erection. "I could use a little help…"

Cindy perked up rather quickly. She smiled quite brilliantly, and Roger thought she did look very pretty. He knew this was wrong on so many levels, but he needed to prove to himself that he still liked girls. "Oh! Yes, of course the offer is still up. Let's go to your car. I find it's the best place to do things without getting caught."

Roger winced at this thinking, _Oh god, don't remind me of how often you do this._ But he allowed Cindy to drag him by the hand into the senior parking lot all the same.

* * *

As he got into the passenger seat of his car; as Cindy pushed the seat all the way back, giving herself room to kneel before Roger; as Cindy swiftly unzipped his pants and pulled them all the way down to his ankles accompanied by his boxers; as Cindy expertly took him into her mouth and began to work her magic, all Roger could think was how much he didn't want this. All he could think was how many times Cindy must have done this to other guys in his grade; how much of a skank she was; how many STDs she must have; how much she disgusted him; how much he disgusted himself for allowing this to happen. Instead of enjoying himself, he sort of wanted to throw up.

Even worse, he found himself picturing a different Cohen. He almost forgot that the whole reason he was doing this was to try to get over Mark, and to remember that he did in fact like girls. But that plan was failing. Crashing and burning. This way he was actually enjoying himself. This way – _Fuck, Mark is good._ He opened his eyes to tell Mark just that, and to somewhat tease him about it, when reality set in. _Right, Cindy. That's why is feels so good. She probably does this more than once a day._ At first he felt a bit unsettled, but then he just thought, _Oh, fuck it. I'm a homosexual. I like boys._ And allowed himself to picture Mark. It was odd, to finally admit it to himself, but he couldn't deny it anymore.


	4. The Blow Job: Aftermath

**AN:** Okay, so I'm a big fat liar. The advantage to AP testing week is that when you're not taking a test, half the people in your classes are. So you do absolutely nothing. Awsome. So I got lots of writing done in classes and tah-dah! Also, the night I posted the first chapter to this story, I was lying in bed and all of a sudden realized "Wait! That's not what Mitzvah means!" But I never bothered to correct myself because either way I looked like a dumbass so what did it really matter? lol, well someone finally called me out on it so I'm taking the opportunity to admit to my faults. Mitzvah does not mean blessing, it means good deed. And although it's not the initial meaning I wanted, I'm not changing it because I still like it and I love the way the title sounds, and it also kind of amuses me that its initials are S&M. Anyways, here's chapter 4. Enjoy and review por favor!

* * *

After Spanish, Mark went to get his lunch out of his locker. Roger normally met him there, and then they would walk out to Roger's car to eat, preferring Roger's overabundance of good music to the never-ending noisiness of the school cafeteria. He waited for Roger for a few minutes before figuring he'd gone to the car without Mark. Sometimes Roger liked a little time to himself to go over the parts he'd just learned in choir to help imprint them in his brain. Of course, Roger didn't know that Mark knew about this.

As Mark approached the car he could see Roger's outline in the window and smiled. _There's my crazy choir geek._ As he got closer, the smile gradually morphed into a look of confusion. The first odd thing he noticed was that Roger was sitting in the passenger's seat. The next thing he noticed was that Roger was leaned back – definitely not a singing position. Finally, when Mark reached the window, he noticed Roger's facial expression: lip bit in concentration and eyes closed in ecstasy.

Mark stared in confusion for a few seconds. He was about to tap on the window when his eyes happened to wander down and recognition began to settle in. When he looked back up, Roger was looking at him and their eyes met. Mark blushed an impossible shade of red, quickly turning his head and averting his eyes. He looked back once, mouthed "Sorry", his expression a cross between sincerity and extreme embarrassment, and ran away.

* * *

It was enough to picture Mark, but to open his eyes and see Mark standing there, staring at him; to lock eyes with Mark? That was too much for Roger. However, after he came down from the high of his release, he began to piece together what had just happened.

"Fuck."

"Yeah, I know," Cindy said, an annoyingly confident smile on her lips, "I'm good."

"No, I mean, fuck, Cindy, get off me!" He practically kicked Cindy out of the car, desperately trying to pull up his pants as he ran after Mark. But Mark was long gone. He had to find Mark; he had to explain – _Fuck. How the fuck do I explain this to Mark? 'Sorry Mark, but I'm in love with you and I just wanted to use your sister to make sure I still like girls. Guess what! I don't.' Hmm…something tells me that would creep him out just a little._

Roger looked for Mark for the rest of the period, but to no avail. Mark wasn't in pre-calc, and when Roger cut English to look into Mark's history class, Mark didn't look up from his books. Roger suspected that Mark knew he was there and that's why he didn't look up, but it was a silly suspicion considering Mark couldn't have seen him if he hadn't looked up. Mark wasn't in photography so Roger sat in the darkroom alone, idly strumming his guitar and thinking over the events of the day. He'd really fucked things up. But then again, Roger and Mark were just friends. Maybe Roger was just making too much of this. Roger liked Mark, but as far as Roger was concerned, Mark was straight. Maybe Mark just didn't want to see his sister degraded in such a manner. Or maybe, he thought with a grin, Mark was just disappointed in Roger for sinking so low. _Yeah, it was probably something like that, _Roger thought. _Mark just needs some time to cool off._

_

* * *

_

After auditions for the show, Roger was walking to the parking lot when he noticed a couple kissing on the patch of grass in the back of the school. A sick feeling gripped the pit of his stomach as he watched Mark making out with an awkward-looking female. But then – was it just his imagination, or did Mark look like he wanted to throw up? The girl was clinging to Mark, happy and giddy and passionate. Mark looked like he wanted to get away as soon as possible. The sick feeling left him, and instead Roger began to laugh. The scene really was quite comical.

After a few minutes, Mark and Awkward Girl broke apart. They exchanged a few words before she squeezed Mark's hand affectionately, game him a warm smile, and left. Roger seized the moment and ran over to Mark before Mark had a chance to realize he was there.

"So," Roger began, laughter ready to boil out of him at any moment and a cocky grin plastered on his face, "who was she?"

Mark blushed and bit his lip. "Oh, hi Roger."

"Don't 'Oh, hi Roger' me! You've been avoiding me all day. You didn't even give me a chance to explain."

"Explain? You don't have to explain anything to me. What you do with your sex life is none of my business."

"Well, you have some explaining to do. Who's the chick you were just sucking face with?"

Mark grimaced, but then he smiled. It killed Roger that Mark felt he had to put on an act for him. "Um, that was Nanette. My girlfriend."

Roger stared at Mark blankly. "Nanette? Nanette Himelfarb? The girl who's been in love with you since you were eleven? The girl you can't stand? The weird looking girl who's annoying and strange and religious to a frightening degree?"

"Hey, don't talk about her like that! That's my girlfriend!"

"Mark, those were your words." Roger was both angry and upset. "Mark, you can't go out with a girl just to get back at me for receiving head from your sister. That's warped. And you're not being fair to her."

"That's ridiculous Roger. You're so paranoid. I really like Nanette."

Roger snorted. "Mark, you looked like you were in pain kissing her."

Mark frowned. He was beat. "Fine. You're right. I don't really like Nanette. I'll, uh, I'll break up with her." Mark smiled a little, shaking his head. "I – I don't even know why I did that."

"We all do stupid things from time to time. Look at what I did this afternoon."

"Yeah, what the hell was that? But seriously, I don't know why I got so upset. I'm sorry for acting like an idiot, and for avoiding you. I mean, you're my best friend."

"Really?" Mark nodded, causing Roger to grin. "You're my best friend, too." The two smiled warmly at each other before embracing. Roger didn't want to let go, but he did, and to cover up his ache to kiss Mark, he laughed a little, stating, "We are such dorks."

"Speaking of dorkage, how'd your audition go?"

"Oh, I'm so going to kill you for that comment. But it went quite well, actually." He motioned for Mark to come with him to his car.

"Well that's good. When do you find out?"

"Callbacks are posted tomorrow."

"I'll come with you to check the callboard tomorrow if you want."

Roger's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, that would be nice."

"Oh, that reminds me. My mom wants to invite you to our Passover Seder."

"How did play auditions remind you of Passover?"

"I have no idea. But will you come?"

"I don't know. I don't want to intrude if it's like a big family thing."

"Well a) that's silly. You're not intruding if you're invited, and b) it's not a big family thing. You'd be coming on the second night. We have a big Seder on the first night. The second night it's just my family, my grandma, and Nanette."

"Your soon-to-be ex girlfriend is coming to your Passover Seder?"

"Well, yeah. She does every year. Her family goes to her grandparent's on the second night and they have three cats. She's horribly allergic."

"Isn't that going to be weird?"

Mark shrugged. "It might not be. Nanette's dad is her hero and he'll be happy."

"Happy? That a nice Jewish boy broke up with his daughter? I would think you'd be a Rabbi's dream future son-in-law."

"Well maybe it's all the times he's seen me leave for a good portion of the service and come back with my face flushed and my hair ruffled."

"Has Marky been fooling around in the synagogue bathroom!"

Mark turned a deep shade of red. "Um…sort of."

"Whoa. This is a new development! With who?"

"Like I'd tell you."

Roger put on his best puppy dog face. "I'd tell you."

"I know. And that's why you get head from skanks in the passenger's seat of your car, and I get to fool around in the clean bathroom of the synagogue with nice Jewish girls. Sometimes the coatroom. It's…dark in there."

"Oh Mark, you are such a rebel." Roger teased as they reached his car, got in, and drove away.


	5. The Seder

"Are you sure this isn't going to be awkward?" Roger asked, slightly bemused by how calm Mark seemed in light of the situation. It was the day of the Passover Seder and Mark and Roger were anticipating Nanette's arrival at any second.

"Actually it probably will be awkward. Just, not in the way you think."

"Oh really? And why is that?"

"Because…Nanette broke up with _me_."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"But…why? I mean, wasn't she like, completely in love with you?"

"Yeah, but remember what I told you about her father? Apparently he forbade her to see me and she refused to comply, so he told her what I've been up to in temple. And now she thinks I'm revolting and some huge sinner and I'm going to become a mass murderer or something. She…"

"…Thinks you're going to Hell?"

"No, actually. Jews don't believe in Hell."

"What! You are such a liar!"

"No, I'm serious. There's no Hell in the Jewish religion. None of that fire and brimstone crap."

"Uh…can I convert to Judaism?"

"Sure," Mark said, a smirk dancing on his lips, "but you have to get a bris."

"A what?"

Mark just smiled, slight amusement evident in his voice as he said, "Oh, a bris. That's the ceremony where they remove the foreskin from your penis."

"Where they do what! You had that?"

Mark was now in the throes of giggles. "Well yeah, when I was eight days old."

"…Oh. I think I'll stick with Christianity."

"Yeah, I thought so."

* * *

"Umm, Mark?" Roger asked, a deer-in-headlights expression on his face as he sat down at the Seder table and was handed a small booklet with an intimidating Hebrew cover.

"Yeah, Rog?"

"What exactly do we do at a Seder?"

Mark couldn't help but laugh at how frightened Roger looked. "Don't worry, it's not that bad. We sit around the table, like so, and there's a few prayers and stuff, but we mostly just go around the table taking turns reading from the Haggadah –" Mark paused, noticing the confused expression on Roger's face, "that's the book you're holding –" Roger's lips formed and "oh" and he nodded in recognition before the frightened look settled back in. "in English."

Roger sighed in relief. "Oh, okay."

"Yeah, and then there's of course matzah and food and all that jazz, but it's really not a big deal. Oh, and I'm the youngest here so I have to sing the Four Questions. And if you make fun of me, I _will_ punch you."

"Of course not, Marky. Why would I ever make fun of your beautiful singing voice?" Roger teased. Mark simply glared in response.

"Roger, honey, would you like some wine, or would you prefer grape juice?" Mrs. Cohen asked. She was making the rounds, getting everything ready to begin.

"Oh, we get wine?" Roger asked, excitedly.

"Well, certainly. Everyone drinks four glasses of wine at the Passover Seder."

"Sure, I'll take some–" Roger suddenly noticed the death stare Mark was giving him that meant 'Don't you dare'. "I mean, grape juice would be fine, Mrs. Cohen, thanks."

"Oh, you're welcome, sweety." She said, pouring him a glass of grape juice.

As everyone settled in at the table, the attention seemed to be turned completely to Roger, the new guest. Roger, who was normally bright and outgoing, turned sheepish under the pressure of being the gentile at the Jewish function.

"So Roger, have you been looking into colleges?" Mark's grandma asked.

"Oh, um, I'm actually a year older than Mark. So, I'm pretty much in college. Well, not in college, but you know what I mean. Accepted."

"Oh that's lovely. And what college are you going to?"

"Well I'm currently undecided. It sort of depends on whether I decide to major in music or something more practical. Well, I mean, I want to go for music. My parents, on the other hand, have a different perspective on what I should be doing with my life."

"Oh, you like music?"

"Mm-hm. I'm in a band, Korean Mitochondria."

"Oh…that's an interesting name." Mrs. Cohen interjected. That's when Roger noticed Nanette sitting across the table, shooting him and Mark disapproving looks. Every so often she would emphasize these looks with a "humph" or an "ugh". Under normal circumstances it would amuse Roger, but at the moment it was just adding to his discomfort. Not to mention the fact that Cindy was sitting next to Nanette, directly across from Roger, and attempting to play footsy with him.

"Um, well, my old best friend came up with the name. Anna. She was kind of weird. Not weird in like the socially inept way, just very random and creative. She, uh, moved though. To Florida."

"That's the girl I told you about, mom. The one me and Roger might stay with in the summer for two weeks." Mark added, smiling hopefully at his mother.

"We'll see about that, dear." She replied, smiling back but clearly not happy with the idea.

"Roger, what do you play in this band of yours?" Mark's grandma brought the conversation back to Roger. He was less than grateful.

"Oh, I play lead guitar."

"He's also the lead singer." Mark butted in. "And he writes all the songs." Roger just nodded, smiling shyly. He let Mark talk about him instead. "He also plays trumpet on the side. And he's in choir. Oh, and he just got the lead in the school play. He's going to be Radames in Aida."

"Wow, that's impressive. You're quite the talented young man." Grandma Cohen said. Mrs. Cohen was nodding her head in approval as well.

Roger shrugged. "I guess so."

Mr. Cohen suddenly stood at the head of the table, cleared his throat, and said, "I think we ought to begin the Seder. Now." Everybody stopped talking in compliance.

* * *

About an hour later, they had reached the eating portion of the Seder. "Everything is very delicious, Mrs. Cohen. Thanks for inviting me." Roger said, causing Mark to look at him oddly. He hadn't expected Roger to be so parent-friendly.

"Why thank you, dear. And it's no problem. We're happy to have you."

As the meal continued, Cindy began to attempt to play footsy with Roger again. He kicked at her feet, but she seemed to take it as some sort of invitation. Pulling her chair in and wriggling down a bit, she slid one of her feet up Roger's leg and right into his crotch. Abruptly, Roger pushed his chair out and stood up. The entire table fell into silence, and turned to Roger, staring in shock.

"I, um, I…I'm just gonna… go to the bathroom." He stammered out before walking upstairs as everyone continued to stare at the spot he'd been standing in. After a few seconds they all sort of shrugged it off and went back to what they were doing. Well, everyone except Cindy, who now concentrated on eating her dinner. Attempting to molest her brother's crotch with her foot might have proven to be slightly awkward.

Not actually having to go to the bathroom, and needing to kill some time, Roger went into Mark's room. As he walked in, he took in his surroundings. Roger realized he'd been in this room dozens of times, but he'd never really noticed what it looked like. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that he was normally paying a little too much attention to Mark.

Mark had two photomontages on his walls. The first one was full of random photos from all different places. There were older ones, some clearly from vacations and such, some in color, some black and white, some of friends, some of strangers, some of scenery. Roger recognized many of them as pictures Mark had developed in photography class. Roger may not have appreciated photography, but he had eyes. It was clear that Mark was an amazing photographer. Videographer, too, Roger noted with a laugh as his eyes found the piles upon piles of tapes clumped haphazardly in the corner of the room.

Roger also noticed that Mark's walls were lined with movie posters. There were a couple classics, but most of them were movies Roger had never heard of. That made sense. Mark liked a lot of indie movies. Weird movies, too. Sometimes Mark watched movies solely for their cinematography and ignored the storyline completely. Roger didn't understand this but let it be. After all, Mark would never understand why Roger loved musical theater.

The next thing Roger's eyes fell on made his heart pound in his chest. It was the other photomontage – pictures of him. Pictures of Mark and Roger, or just Roger, the places they'd gone together, the things they'd done. It didn't mean anything. They were best friends. It still made Roger's heart ache with the need to be more than just friends.

He laid down on Mark's bed, chest down, and took deep, calming breaths, burying his face in Mark's pillow and breathing in Mark's scent. His hands slid under the pillow, running over the smooth sheets, when his fingers brushed over and interruption. There was something hard, but flat. It was sort of plasticky. A photo?

Quickly Roger took the photo out and stared at it in awe. It was of him. It was of him – _in swim trunks_. In the photo, the swim trunks were falling down, riding impossibly low on his hips. Roger's heart began to speed up. He laid on his back and stared at the picture for a long time. What did this mean? Okay, he knew what this meant. But how could he be sure? He began to imagine what Mark might be doing with this picture stowed under his pillow. Fuck. Before Roger went back down to dinner, he went to the bathroom to jack off, images of Mark masturbating to his picture running through his mind. At least he had actually done what he'd said he was going up to do.

* * *

After dinner, Roger and Mark were sitting on Mark's bed. "So, that was it?" Roger asked.

"Of the Seder?"

"Yeah. You were right. It was no big deal." Roger kept inadvertently glancing at Mark's pillow, the knowledge of what was underneath making him ponder. Also, once again, making him hard.

"I told you. Well, actually there's a lot more after the meal, but we just don't do it. My father and Nanette usually do it while the rest of us lounge around." Noticing Roger's odd serious expression, Mark added, "Don't worry, though. They'll call us down for dessert," laughing lightly at his own comment.

Roger simply blinked at him, not taking in what he was saying. "What? Oh, yeah, dessert. Dessert is good…"

"You okay, Rog?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Well, you were kind of shy before at dinner. And after you went to the bathroom you were acting sort of strange. Still are. You seem… distracted."

Roger looked at Mark long and hard. After what seemed like an eternity, he gently placed his hand on Mark's chin and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. His entire body was on fire, his lips and fingers tingling, and – Fuck. Why wasn't Mark responding? Maybe the photo wasn't what he thought. It could be there for any number of reasons. Of course, Roger couldn't think of any, but that's because he didn't want there to be any other reason.

He broke apart from Mark, who was now staring at him in awe. Not moving, not speaking. "I, uh… I'm sorry. I… don't know why I did that." Roger sputtered, suddenly scared out of his wits.

Mark finally moved, looking at Roger incredulously. "I…you…you don't get to do that, Roger." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "You can't just say you don't know why. I need to know why. It's not going to change anything between us, I just… need to be able to understand what just happened. I need to be able to work things out in my head. I don't care what the reason is, just tell me or it'll be eating away at me for who knows how long."

Once again, Roger took a long time looking at Mark, making sure Mark was being sincere, and wondering if this would change things or not. How would Mark respond to learning that his best friend had a crush on him? "I think I'm gay. Well, not gay, no. I like girls. Really, I do. I've always liked girls. Except for you, that is. You seem to be the exception. You drive me crazy, Mark. And I'm sorry that I kissed you but I've liked you for so long and I… I found my picture under your pillow and I thought maybe, just maybe – but I guess not. I'm sorry if you're freaked out. I hope we can still be – "

Roger was cut off by Marks lips crashing into his passionately. "I'm gay." Mark said, breathless from the kiss. "And as you can probably tell from the picture under my pillow, I like you too. I can't believe you found that." Mark was blushing profusely.

"Where did you even get it? We weren't friends yet in the summer."

"Just a random photo I took at the swim club. You were a beautiful boy and your bathing suit was falling down. After I started liking you I found it while sifting through my photos. It was just coincidence. Really good coincidence." They kissed again, hot and searing and wonderful. Mark shifted himself so he was lying down and pulled Roger on top of him, as Roger began to plant kisses down his jaw line until he reached his neck and began to suck and nibble. Mark shifted once more to grind their hips together, sending sparks through both of them.

"Ah, fuck. Mark." Roger took Mark's mouth once more with his own, exploring it with his tongue, trying to memorize every bump and contour. "God, I can't believe this is really happening."

Panting as they childishly rubbed against each other through their clothing, Mark breathed out, "Me either. I feel like I'm dreaming."

"You're not. I'm really here, I swear."

Mark smiled. "Me too."

They continued kissing and grinding and panting until they both came, and they laid down on the bed, relaxing into one another. "I can't believe you're gay." Roger said, highly amused.

Mark laughed. "That reminds me, I have to tell you something. Those weren't girls in the temple bathroom."

"Wait. You were fooling around with boys in the temple bathroom!"

"Not boys. Boy. One. Geez, you make me sound like such a slut."

"Oh, was he like, your boyfriend?"

"Yeah. The rabbi knew. That's why Nanette thinks I'm such a big sinner. It's really not the fooling around thing. It's the gay thing. I mean…it's not like he caught us or anything, but he's up on the bema the whole time. A guy sees two boys leave at the same time on several occasions and come back in various states of disarray, and if he has at least half a brain he can piece it together pretty easily. He confronted me about it a while back, but thankfully hasn't told my parents. I'm afraid he will one day, though. He's such a prick."

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna be my boyfriend?"

Mark grinned and blushed. "Yeah." Roger kissed him on the cheek, and they lay there chatting in each other's arms until dessert.


	6. As Lovers Go

On Monday, Mark found a note in his locker. It read, _This made me think of you. It's kind of cheesy, but I hope you like it._ Mark smiled to himself and opened the note. Inside was a poem:

Hug O' War

I will not play at tug o' war.  
I'd rather play at hug o' war,  
Where everyone hugs  
Instead of tugs,  
Where everyone giggles  
And rolls on the rug,  
Where everyone kisses,  
And everyone grins,  
And everyone cuddles,  
And everyone wins.  
-Shel Silverstein

Smiling from cheek to cheek and blushing, he looked up from the poem and there was Roger. "Hey you." Roger said softly, smiling contently.

"Hey. This is nice."

"So you like the poem?"

"I _love_ the poem." They began walking to gym together.

"Good." They fell into silence, both wanting to get closer but not knowing if it was okay. They hadn't discussed what they would do in public yet. It left an awkwardness in the air, which Roger finally broke saying, "Oh my god. I just realized I have to call Anna. You make three!"

"Three?"

"Boys she's had a crush on that turned out to be gay."

"Oh. Wait. Anna had a crush on me?"

"Yeah. That's actually why I started talking to you. It was like, 'Hey, there's that guy Anna was always talking about last year.'"

"I'm so oblivious…but I'm really glad she did."

"Me too. Anna always did have good taste." Mark blushed as they entered the locker room. "After all, she did have a crush on me for a year."

Mark hit him playfully. "You are so full of yourself." As Mark said this, Roger noticed his attention was turned elsewhere. He looked at Mark, his face encased in shock. After a moment, Mark looked back at Roger, coming out of his daze. "What?"

"Did you… just check out that guy?"

Mark made a face halfway between being genuinely sorry and incredibly amused. "Umm…no…" He lied, jokingly.

"_Mark!_ Am I gonna have to put a leash on you!"

"Well, I definitely wouldn't object…"

"Oh." Roger said, his voice unnaturally high-pitched as it cracked slightly. "Wow. Mental images. Really good mental images."

* * *

At lunch, they got into Roger's car and Roger was immediately on top of Mark, eager lips and skillful tongue working Mark into a state of extreme bliss. They broke apart, keeping their foreheads pressed together while gasping for much-needed air. "God, I have been waiting to do that all day."

Mark laughed. "Its only forth period." He smiled at Roger before admitting, "But…me, too." As he leaned into Roger's shoulder, he felt strong arms fall around him, enveloping him. Sighing contentedly, he left Roger's arms and leaned back into his seat, opening his lunch. Mark groaned, pulling out his sandwich of peanut butter and jelly on matzah. "Mm, more matzah. My favorite." He said, sarcastically.

Roger grinned. "I brought you a sandwich."

"You did?"

"Mm-hm." He pulled it out and handed it to Mark, who hugged the sandwich to his chest like it was his savior.

"Bread! Aw, Rog, thank you so much." He kissed Roger on the cheek.

Roger smiled, obviously pleased with himself. He placed his hand to his cheek, marveling at the way the feel of Mark's lips still lingered there. "Any time. So, what music should I put on?"

"Who needs music? I've got bread!"

"I'm worried you like that bread more than you like me."

"Just for these eight days. Then I'll go back to liking you the most, I promise." He paused, grinning at Roger. "I mean…only because you gave me this bread. Clearly."

"Heh, that's okay. I wouldn't enjoy being bread-deprived, either. Oh, I know what to put on!" As they ate their lunch, Roger put in a CD and skipped to track three.

_She said, "I've gotta be honest.  
You're wasting your time  
If you're fishing 'round here."  
I said, "You must be mistaken.  
I'm not fooling  
This feeling is real."_

"What is this?"

"'As Lovers Go' by Dashboard Confessional."

"I like it."

"I thought you would."

As the chorus came on, Roger began to sing along. "_I'll be true, I'll be useful/ I'll be cavalier/ I'll be yours, my dear/ And I'll belong to you/ If you just let me through._" He held Mark's hand and looked deeply into the brilliant blue eyes before him, crooning the tune like it was written just for them; just for that moment in time. "_This is easy as lovers go/ So don't complicate it/ By hesitating and/ This is wonderful as loving goes/ This is tailor-made/ What's the sense in waiting?_"

Mark broke their trance, interrupting Roger's singing, with a serious request. "Rog, we need to talk."

Roger frowned. "That didn't sound good."

"No, no. It's nothing like that. It's just, we haven't really talked about how we're going to act together in public, and, well, we should probably get that straightened out."

"Oh. Yeah, well, I don't care, you know? I think we should act how we want to. I don't care what people think. Let them think what they want."

"I would agree…but…my parents."

"Would it be so bad if they knew?"

"_Yes_. They don't like gays in general; they're certainly not going to like one for a son. You should hear some of the things they say."

"I'm sorry, Mark. Wait, but how would they find out?"

"Nanette… Cindy…"

"You think they would tell?"

"Well, Nanette already knows. So I guess not. But Cindy would leap at the opportunity."

"Are you sure? I mean, I know she's a bitch and a slut, but going so far as to tell your parents something that could possibly ruin your life? Is she really that horrible of a person?"

"Honestly? I think she is."

"So we'll act like we used to in public. We'll only be together in private."

"Are you sure? You don't seem too happy about that."

"Well, I'm not. But, Mark," Roger started, taking Mark's hand in his, "if it means you'll be happy and we can be together, then I'm okay. I'll deal. Besides," he added, placing a quick kiss to Mark's lips, "We'll always have lunchtime."

Mark smiled. "You're very romantic, you know that?"

"Oh, that's just cause it's the beginning of the relationship. Wait a couple months and I'll be like 'Get your own damn bread, Mark!'"

"Good to know. So tell me, how many months will this be, exactly? I need perspective on when's a good time to break up with you."

"Oh, shush, you. You're coming to my gig on Friday, yes?"

"Sure. But wait, I think I'm gonna be sick on Friday. Oh, and I definitely have to wash my hair…" Roger pouted, and Mark simply smiled back. "Hold it. Right there. Don't move." Roger cocked his head to the side in curiosity, but kept the pout on as Mark quickly took his camera out of his bag and snapped his picture. With his head tilted and his lower lip all pushed out like that, Roger looked like an over-curious puppy. The cutest over-curious puppy in the universe as far as Mark was concerned. "That's going to be a beautiful photo. And of course I'm coming, silly. What am I gonna do? Leave you for the groupies to maul? No way, mister. You're mine!"

"Good. And you're going to tech after school today?"

"Mm-hm. But you totally owe me for that one."

Roger kissed his neck, causing Mark to emit a soft moan. "I think I can manage that."


	7. Gay Connecticut and Random Jewish Boy

The small club was packed with people. Mark sat at the table, marveling at the turnout, feeling half proud – all of these people were here to see _his_ boyfriend – and half resentful – all of these people were here… to see his boyfriend. It wouldn't even matter to Roger if Mark had shown up at all. The band had built quite a following. Go two towns over and mention Korean Mitochondria, and you'd be guaranteed to get at least one group of girls squealing. "Oh, I love them! Their lead singer, what's his name? Ricky? Yeah, that's it. That guy Ricky is _so_ cute!" And Mark knew why. For what was essentially a garage band, they were pretty freaking good. Though, Mark had to admit he generally only listened to the demo Roger had given him to hear the sound of Roger's voice, and not, as he'd once heard a male fan of theirs say, for the "killer tunes."

The band was a couple of songs into their set when Roger said into the mic, "This next song is for someone special. The most beautiful person alive." And as the opening chords of "As Lovers Go" began, Roger locked eyes with Mark, letting Mark know he was singing just for him. And that's when Mark realized he'd been wrong. It didn't matter to Roger that all those other people had shown up. He only cared that Mark was there.

Listening to Roger sing, the lyrics of the second verse struck Mark. He couldn't believe Roger was dedicating this to him.

_I said, "I've gotta be honest.  
I've been waiting for you  
All my life."  
For so long I thought  
I was asylum-bound  
But just seeing you  
Makes me think twice  
Cause being with you here  
Makes me sane, I fear  
I go crazy if you leave my sight_

_

* * *

_

Sweaty hands covered Mark's eyes as a low growl was emitted into his ear. "Hello there, Stranger."

Mark flinched, pulling Roger's hands off him. "Gross. You're all… sweat-tastic."

"Sweat-tastic?" Roger asked, laughing at the extreme adorableness of his boyfriend's comment as he took a seat next to Mark at the table. "That's a new one." Energy still rushing through him from the show, Roger tapped his foot absentmindedly on his chair. "I'm pumped! Dance with me?" He looked at Mark hopefully, covering Mark's hand with his.

Mark frowned. "Rog, you know I can't do that. Look around you. Being in this crowd is no different than being at school."

"I know. I need to do something, though. Being on stage is such a rush."

"Jesus, your heart is beating a mile a minute."

"Only for you, darling. Only for you."

"You cheese ball. It's beating from the adrenaline."

"Heh. That, too. Exactly my point, though. Let's get out of here. Let's go run in the streets or something. Naked."

"Naked?"

"Yeah, of course naked! Or let's…drive to Connecticut. And…check out the gay clubs!"

"…Because Connecticut is so well-known for its gay clubs?"

Roger shrugged. "Well, at least nobody would know us there."

"Rog, my parents went to a late movie. And Cindy is, well, here."

"So you're saying…"

"My house is completely empty." Mark said, smirking uncharacteristically.

"…Are you trying to seduce me?"

"No. But I am trying to get you some place where we can get a little closer…and possibly make out enthusiastically."

"Damn. I was hoping I was being seduced."

* * *

The next day, Mark was eating a late breakfast in his kitchen around noon when the doorbell rang. He was expecting Roger in a half hour, but Roger didn't always have the best concept of time. He was generally really early or really late. However, when he heard his mom answer the door, she did not give her normal Roger greeting. Instead he heard a shocked, "Oh, hi dear! How are you?" 

"Hi Mrs. Cohen. I'm fine. How're you?" Craig. What the fuck was he doing here?

"Oh, I'm fine, dear. Haven't seen you around in a while."

"Yeah, well, you know how it is. It's hard when you go to different schools, and with Hebrew school being over and all. Is Mark here?"

"Oh sure, dear. I'll get him." She turned her head towards the kitchen, calling, "Mark, you have a visitor!"

Mark came out of the kitchen. "Oh, hi Craig." He said, unenthusiastically. "Mom, we're just gonna be on the porch, okay?"

"Okay, dear." Mark walked out, closing the door behind him.

Rid of his mother's presence, Mark greeted Craig with a cold, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you. I miss you."

"Well, I don't miss you."

"Oh, come on, Marky." He stroked Mark's cheek. Mark stiffened, flinching away from Craig's touch. "I made a mistake, okay? I love you."

"Oh, please. You're just here because what's-his-name broke up with you."

"You can't truly believe that's why I'm here, Mark. I _miss_ you." He stepped closer to Mark, forcing Mark to back up, trapping Mark against the railing. "You can't tell me you don't want me anymore. We had something special."

Tears welled up in Mark's eyes as painful memories came flooding back to him. "Stop. Please just stop. You _hurt_ me, Craig. Please just leave me alone."

Craig cupped Mark's chin, bringing his face in close, lips almost touching Mark's. "No. I'm not going to let you go. I want you back." He kissed Mark, ignoring the other boy's obvious distress. "You have to miss this."

"Craig, I have a boyfriend."

"I don't care."

"Exactly why I don't want you back."

"Come on, Marky. Remember the good times we had? Remember all the things we did in the temple bathroom?"

"Not all of those are good memories. Some of them are painful." Roger's car pulled into the driveway just then, but Craig didn't move.

"Don't pretend you didn't like it. We always had fun."

"_You_ always had fun."

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?" Roger was now standing on the porch, staring at Mark and Craig, hands curled into fists and jaw clenched in rage.

Craig spun around, surprised. "You must be the boyfriend."

"Damn right I am. And what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Roger, calm down. It's not what you think." Mark interjected. "This is Craig, my ex boyfriend."

"Temple bathroom boy?"

Mark blushed. "Umm…yeah."

"You're telling me that the guy pinning you to the railing is your ex boyfriend and that's supposed to make me feel _better_?"

"Umm…yeah?" He bit his lip, feeling deflated. Though he was grateful that Craig wasn't pressed quite so closely to him anymore, he couldn't help but hold on to Craig, using him as support. Roger was frightening when he was angry, and his anger had never really been directed at Mark before. Mark could handle Roger when he was angry with his mom or their physics teacher or forced social rituals, but to have Roger angry with him? That scared the shit out of Mark.

"What is this, Mark?"

"It's the rebirth of a beautiful relationship, and the end of a flop." Craig said, smirking and pulling Mark close to him.

Mark pushed Craig off of him and finally stood up straight. "God, you just don't get it, Craig! I said no. I'm with Roger now, and you couldn't convince me to leave him with all the reasoning in the world." Roger looked confused for a second as his rage subsided. The confusion melted into a blushing grin as Mark's words sunk in. "He makes me happy; happier than I've ever been. And I wouldn't try anything either, cause I may not be able to beat you up, but Roger sure can."

Craig looked between Mark and Roger, clearly defeated, before putting on a confident smile. He began walking away, stopping for a second in front of Roger to declare, "This means war."

As Craig continued walking, Roger shot back, "War? What war? I think the boy's made his choice." He grabbed Mark by the waist, pulling Mark into him. Mark gladly obliged, relaxing into Roger and kissing his cheek softly. Craig turned once more to shoot them a glare, before leaving for good.

"I…uh…I'm sorry I got so angry," Roger said softly. "It's just, when I think –"

"It's okay. I know what it must have looked like." Mark snuggled closer to Roger, burying his face in Roger's neck. "I'm just glad you're here."

Roger felt a few drops of hot tears on his neck. With his free hand, he lifted Mark's chin up with his index finger, forcing the boy to make eye contact. "You okay?" Mark shrugged. "Listen, Mark, I'm really sorry I yelled at you. I just – I got so jealous. I'm a jealous bastard, I know. I was scared that – That's not it, is it?" Mark nodded.

"I kind of liked that you got so jealous. It made me feel special. Frightened, but special."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing for it. Really."

"Sorry, I –" They both laughed. "Okay, not apologizing anymore. But hey, I got you to smile. Do you wanna talk about what was making you so upset?"

"I…yeah, okay. Not here, though. Upstairs?" Roger nodded and they walked inside. On the way to the stairs they were intercepted by Mrs. Cohen.

"Oh, hi Roger, dear. When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago."

"Where did Craig go?"

"Oh…he had to study." Roger said before shoving Mark up the stairs. He hated being rude to Mark's mother, but he had done it in Mark's best interest. If Mrs. Cohen realized Mark was upset, she would smother him, and it was just not what Mark needed right now.

Once in Mark's room, after securely locking the door, they sat Indian style on Mark's bed, facing each other. Silence ensued for a few minutes before Roger awkwardly started with, "So…"

"So…" Mark replied. "That was Craig."

"Mm, I got that part."

"We were friends for a really long time. Since preschool. I thought I knew him, you know? He'd been my best friend for so long, and when we started dating he was really sweet and caring and romantic. But I was starting to grow up, and I started to notice things." Mark closed his eyes, feeling tears welling up once more. "He's not really a nice guy. He's manipulative. He's so good at manipulation he can trick you into believing that what he's doing is sweet and caring; that he has your best interest at heart. But I thought I loved him. I thought I was making things up, being paranoid, you know? So I stayed with him. I did things with him. He was my first…everything. And I mean _everything_. He um, he sort of…forced me."

"Forced you?"

"…Into sex."

"He raped you?"

"No. He didn't – Oh, I guess he did."

"Oh god, Mark." Roger pulled Mark close to him, kissing him on the forehead. He held Mark as he cried. "I'll kill him. You are so wonderful, you know that? You don't fucking deserve that."

"He did it six times." Mark choked out. "Then he left me for someone more attractive and more experienced."

"You know I would never do that, right?" Roger asked, kissing Mark on the cheek. "I would never make you do anything you don't want to."

"I know. You're genuine. I love that about you."

"I love everything about you." Roger kissed Mark cautiously. Mark took him by surprise, deepening the kiss and thrusting his tongue inside Roger's mouth.

"You make me feel wanted. And giddy. And all that other good stuff."

"You are wanted." He gave Mark a chaste kiss on the lips.

Mark smiled. "Hey, remember that promise I made you the first time we hung out?"

Roger looked at Mark dumbfounded. "Uhh…"

"Think. My slutty sister. Dark theater…"

"That you wouldn't go down on me in the movies?"

"Yeah. I was thinking I could… break that promise."

"Wow. Fuck this sentimental shit. We're going to the movies!"


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** Okay, so I've been trying to upload this for about 3 days now. Stupid Anyways, I know this is the longest I've ever taken between updates and I'm sorry for that. I was really busy with school and other stuff and it just kept getting put off. But on that note, I have to say that I will be abandoning this fic after this chapter. I can't be positive I won't be picking this up at a later point, but for now I'm killing it. I'm pretty much stopping writing altogether. There are a number of reasons for this that I don't really care to publicly discuss, but yeah. I'm sorry to all my loyal readers, and my lovely reviewers. This will be it for a while...possibly forever.

* * *

About two weeks later, as Mark got into Roger's car at lunchtime he noticed a small package in festive wrapping paper on his seat.

"What's this?"

"It's for you, silly."

"But…why?"

"You seriously don't know?"

Mark stared at Roger blankly while racking his brain. "Just happy to see me?" He offered, weakly.

Roger narrowed his eyes at Mark, jokingly. "It's our one month, you jerk."

Mark smiled gleefully. "Is it really?"

"Of course it is, asshole. Why on earth would I make that up?"

Mark blushed, grinning like a fool. "I can't believe we've been together for a month. It felt like a dream at first. And you _remembered_. Hell, I didn't even give it a thought. _And_ you got me a present?"

"Yeah…well, I wouldn't get too excited about that last one until you open it."

"Oh, bullshit. It's all pretty and crap. Where the fuck did you get metallic silver wrapping paper with rainbow hearts?"

"My mother…is insane."

"Don't I know it." Mark said as he opened the present excitedly. Immediately, his mood changed. He looked at Roger, equal parts amused and confused. "Vaginal contraceptive films?"

Roger laughed heartily, throwing his head back. "Okay, so you know that new mini-mart that just opened up? The one owned by the Asians that only hire other Asians, and have effectively made their staff completely non-English-speaking?"

"…Yeah…"

"Well, I was asking the guy where to find film, and he misunderstood me. So I got you this. The opportunity was just too great; I could not pass it up."

Mark began to join in with Roger's laughter. "Umm, thanks. I guess I could give these to Cindy…?"

"Geez, that girl's not on the pill? How is she not pregnant already?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"Oh, there's another present in there for you."

"Is there?" Mark moved the contraceptives and found a burned CD.

"I made you a copy of the Dashboard Confessional CD. The one with our song on it."

"Our song?" Roger nodded. "I like the sound of that." Mark smiled to himself, fingering the front of the CD in a slight daze. "It's 'our song'."

"You are too cute." Roger declared, leaning into Mark and capturing his lips in a soft, gentle kiss that sent Mark's skin on fire, tingling for more. As their activity got a bit more heated, Mark was pushed up against the passenger seat window, awkwardly, as his feet still hung over the seat. Roger had somewhat crawled on top of Mark, uncomfortably resting over the hard armrest compartment in between the seats. Both so enveloped in each other, they barely noticed the highly discomforting positions. Their very poorly arranged make out session was interrupted suddenly with a tapping on the window. Roger sat up, suddenly, very alert. "Fuck, Mark."

Mark looked horrified. Roger didn't know what else to do, so he rolled down the window. Mark sat up and turned his head. He sighed in relief. "Oh, hi Mr. Adams." This was said incredibly nonchalantly. Roger was suddenly very confused.

"Hey, Mark. How's it going?"

Mark noted the utterly lost look on his boyfriends face and laughed lightly, explaining, "It's okay. He knows."

"Yes, Mark and I share a passion." Roger furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "For the male body, that is."

"Oh, you're gay!" Roger blurted out, bluntly. "But, how did you two find out about each other?"

"Well, plenty of people know about me. I'm not closeted; I just don't shout it at the top of my lungs. I don't think the administration would really appreciate that…"

Mark turned to Roger to explain the situation. "I used to go to a gay and lesbian support group once a week. I went a few towns over so nobody would recognize me, and told my mom I was going to a photography class. I used to show her random photos and tell her they were my photography projects. It was highly amusing. Anyways, it happened to be Mr. Adams's town, and Mr. Adams happened to run the group."

"When did you go to a gay and lesbian support group?"

"It was right after Craig. I needed someone to talk to, and it wasn't like I could talk to anyone here."

"But you didn't even realize he'd r–"

"I didn't actually talk much." Mark cut Roger off. "But it was nice to be around people who were like me, and knew who I was, and understood."

"We miss you at the center." Mr. Adams said. "It's less exciting without your photomontages and videos." He turned his attention to Roger. "Mark used to take a lot of pictures and video during the meetings, and he'd show us them and other things he'd taken. Most of it was stuff he couldn't show other people, because of the content."

"Yeah. I wasn't exactly keen on showing my mother my photos of boys with their bathing suits falling down." Mark added, smiling at Roger. "This is Roger, by the way. My boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you." Mr. Adams said, putting out his hand through the window to shake Roger's. "You two should be more careful, though. I mean, I could have been anyone."

Roger bit his lip. "Yeah, before Mark saw it was you I thought he was going to have a heart attack."

"Say, aren't you that guy in that band? Korean Mitochondria?"

"Yup."

"Wow, nice job bagging a rock star, Mark. Who would've thought Roger Davis, lead singer of Korean Mitochondria: a homosexual."

Roger laughed nervously. "Actually, I might not be the lead singer of Korean Mitochondria anymore. My friend Anna who named the band is trying to convince me to change the name to Ode to Pedestrians: The Novel: The Movie."

"Oh, I know that Anna. I had her in class with Mark last year. She had such a crush on you, Mark."

Mark blushed, biting his lip. "Am I the only one who didn't know this!"

"Well, that's the job of the gay boy. To be oblivious to pretty, vivacious girls with rather large crushes on them." He paused, smiling at his own comment. "Well, I really must be going. I have…papers to grade. I literally have grown up things to do. When did I become old, right? Well, it was nice to meet you Roger. And it was nice seeing you again, Mark. Don't be a stranger, alright?"

"I won't be." Mark said, smiling and waving as Roger rolled the window back up. He turned back to Roger, apprehensively. "Was that…okay?"

"Yeah, of course. I told you I wouldn't mind if we were publicly together. Plus, Mr. Adams is a pretty cool guy."

"I know, but its one thing to say it and another to go through with it."

"Well, I'll admit it was a little weird for me at first. I mean, I've never even thought about another guy before you, Mark. I always thought I was straight. I don't really know what I am right now… heh…" He laughed nervously, biting his lip before continuing. "But you know, it's not so weird now. So, you're not a girl. It doesn't mean I can't have feelings for you the way I have feelings for girls. At any rate, I like you more than any girl I've ever dated." Mark blushed, smiling to himself as Roger continued. "What's so special about girls, anyway? Who needs girls when I have a Mark."

Mark shrugged. "Kissing Nanette just sort of made me want to throw up."

"That's because it was Nanette. She repulsed you. Plus, you don't like girls."

"She had bad breath, too."

"So do you."

"I do not!" He breathed in Roger's face childishly.

"I don't know about that. I need to get a little closer to test that out." He teased, a coy smile on his face as he pulled Mark's lips into deep kiss that sent Mark's mind reeling. "You're right," he laughed. "Minty fresh."


End file.
